


Shall We Dance?

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballroom Dancing, Community: hc_bingo, Community: trope_bingo, Dancing Lessons, Epic Friendship, Gen, Injury Recovery, Mentions other characters, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Tumblr Prompt, background Max/Anne/Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15691494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: Modern AU. Max helps Silver recover from his injuries by teaching him to dance. Jack helps too. A standalone friendship fic that fills out the backstory for my silverflint meet-cute "Summer in the City"For the prompt "You can't just sit there all day" the h/c bingo prompt "taking care of someone" and the trope bingo prompt "happy ending"





	Shall We Dance?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Summer in the City](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10835472) by [meridian_rose (meridianrose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose). 



"You can't just sit there all day," Max said.

"Watch me." Silver lay his head back on the chair. "Is there any rum?"

"No, and you know the rules. If you want rum, you have to come to the store with me."

Silver gave a long suffering sigh but Max was not moved.

"You're supposed to exercise," she said. "Or what was the use of them saving the leg if you're going to do nothing but sit in a chair and whine?"

The incident with a hammer had almost cost him his lower left leg but a skilled surgeon and a dose of luck had let Silver keep his limb intact, even as he'd lost his job and ended up in debt.

Anne had shown up one night with an envelope full of cash that had almost certainly been extracted from the perpetrators of the beating, enough to cover the hospital bills and a few month's rent – the reason he'd moved in with Max was to help her pay the bills after all. Additionally, Silver was supposed to use some of the cash to pay for his physiotherapy rehab but he found the process unhelpful and his assigned rehab specialist galling and had refused to attend after a couple of sessions.

Max had been doing her best to encourage him to use the leg, going on walks, taking him swimming, and, when he refused even to get up from his favourite chair, refusing to fetch him a drink unless he went to the store.

He held out his hand and she helped him to his feet, and they headed out.

"I have class tonight," she said when they returned home from their excursion, Silver limping a little but not complaining.

"Teaching or learning?" 

Max taught yoga but she'd recently been taking dance classes, wanting to move into being a dance instructor; the associated costs being why she'd asked him to move in with her in the first place. Silver thought yoga more lucrative, with a larger potential client base than dancing, but Max wanted to have the option to do both, said it was a dream of hers, that she wanted to try something new, and that she could charge more for dance classes once qualified since there were fewer instructors.

"Learning."

Silver spent the evening watching comedy movies. When Max returned home, she made coffee for them both.

"I want you to help me," she said.

"You need cash?"

"Practice. I need you to let me teach you how to dance."

Silver laughed. "I can barely make it to the store some days! And I don't dance."

"Then you can't blame your injury for your lack of progress," Max said, unmoved. "And if you knew the moves already how could I be sure I was teaching you anything?"

"It's a bad idea."

"It's a good idea," she countered. "I ask for little, _mon amour_. I take care of you. Do this for me. I don't expect perfection, only a willingness to try."

Silver finished his coffee. "All right."

*

Silver made a quip about the position of his hands but Max agreed, saying, "The waltz was once considered a scandalously intimate dance."

If she wasn't going to rise to the bait there was no point teasing so Silver gave in and followed her instructions. He had a vague notion of how to waltz and they practised for a while.

"Do you need to stop?" she asked, nodding to his leg.

"No. I'm okay."

She moved on to show him the basics of the foxtrot. This took more work, Silver muddling up his left and right a few times before he got into the swing of it.

"Not bad," Max said. "I think that's enough for now. Anyway I have a yoga class to give."

When she'd left, Silver ran a bath, adding a generous amount of Max's lavender bath oil. He climbed in without too much difficulty, sat staring at the scars for a long moment. Then he closed his eyes and let the warm water soothe his muscles and his mind.

*

" _Non_!"

"Why?" Silver asked, confused, precariously holding an awkward position.

"Because is the East Coast Swing," Max said tersely. "You're muddling up the dances again."

"I hope you'll be nicer to your students," Silver said, standing up straight once more.

She nodded, contrite. "Sorry. I know I'm teaching you a lot in a short time."

In truth Silver had begun to enjoy their dance classes. The experience was far more pleasant than rehab had been and despite his snarking at Max, she was a far nicer person to spend time with than his specialist. He was getting better every day at the steps and last night had dreamt of waltzing.

They spent another hour practising, maybe a little too long, for that night Silver woke howling in pain. Max came to his room, switching on the light to find him clutching his knee, the covers tossed aside haphazardly. She pulled open the bedside drawer and took out his pill bottle, tipping two into her hand.

"Here," she said, passing him the painkillers and then his water glass. Silver had to let go of his leg to take the pills, whimpering as he did so.

"Sssh," Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he sipped more water. She brushed a lock of hair back from his damp forehead. "It's all right. Let the drugs work."

He nodded, eyes downcast.

Max placed her hands on his thigh and he tensed. "I'll be gentle," she said and he put the glass aside, leaned back into the pillows. Max massaged at his thigh, around his knee, the calf muscles. Silver gave a sigh of relief.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

Max worked a little longer until he began to drift off to sleep, tucking the covers gently over him before she moved to turn off the light.

*

Next day Max insisted on massaging the leg again before they danced and Silver wasn't averse to this, aside from the sight of the scars.

"Still ugly," he said with regret.

"They will fade more over time," she said. "There are creams you can buy to help the skin recover, if you're concerned."

Then Silver got to lose himself in the repetitive movements of the dances, and when he didn't need to count his steps because he'd now mastered the sequence - if sometimes still rusty- he could enjoy the experience itself.

That night Max went to class, to be followed by dinner, leaving Silver alone for the night. However half an hour after she'd left Jack showed up.

"Want some company?" Jack asked, holding up a four pack of beer.

"Sure." Silver gestured for Jack to come in. "You're not invited to dinner either?"

"Girl's night," Jack said dismissively.

Silver said nothing for Max's realtionship with Jack and Anne was complicated and he was happy to observe from the sidelines, being supportive when required but otherwise staying out of it. He was grateful for Anne's assistance, though it had surely been for Max's benefit, but he and Anne weren't really friends. 

Jack, however; they were a little more than acquaintances now and Silver found he enjoyed that too. He couldn't up and leave once he was injured and these days he didn't want to run away at all, which surprised him. He'd finally found somewhere, or more importantly, some people that made him feel that staying put was worthwhile.

They drank the beers in short order before Jack moved onto a bottle of whisky he'd stashed in his impressively voluminous coat pocket. Talk turned to the dancing and Jack told Silver that he and Anne both practised with Max sometimes, for Jack had once upon a time learnt some of the Latin dances.

"The things you do for love," Jack said and laughed.

Silver did a shot. "So you don't need to learn the steps. Max has to teach me every dance."

"She had to teach me the quickstep," Jack said. "And I can dance the waltz as the male and the female part now too. Anne insisted I let her lead sometimes, and that lets Max practice both parts."

Silver grinned. He was glad Max had more partners to use in her studies, even if he felt a pang of something like jealousy or betrayal that she'd dragged him into dancing claiming she needed him. But as she'd said, she did need a partner who didn't know the steps whereas Jack had some skill already, and Silver knew he needed the exercise.

"Show me your waltz," Silver suggested on a whim. "Let me lead."

Jack shrugged and got to his feet, sketched a bow. Silver took his hand and they moved in silence for a while.

"Is it difficult to lean to do it backwards?" he asked and Jack shook his head.

"Get Max to show you," he said, "and we'll do this again."

When Jack made to leave, slipping on his coat, Silver asked, "Can we do the beers again too?"

"Of course," Jack said. "Next Wednesday sound good?"

*

Max had gone out before Silver even got up next morning. When she came home for lunch, Silver had made sandwiches.

"I've got a job interview tomorrow," he said. "In a kitchen, so I hope this sandwich is good."

"That's wonderful," she said. "Take one of these with you and you should get the position."

*

"I'm sorry," Silver said, focussing on Billy. "I wasn't listening."

Billy gave him a hard look. "Flint said we can have the party on the roof. I'm going to DJ."

In the summer heat theyd all wanted somewhere outside to meet up, to drink, and dance.

"Sounds good," Silver said. "What will you play?"

"Bit of everything," Billy said. "All the eras and most of the genres. Bit of stuff Max can show her dance moves at. She can hand out business cards maybe. We won't be licensed to sell alcohol but you can bring your own and if we all pitch in we can get a good selection of drinks to share between friends - Gates has got some big coolers we can use to keep things on ice."

"I've got the storecard for the warehouse," Silver said, a perk of his job to be able to go and buy catering sized supplies. "I can get some plastic cups and glasses."

Max was pleased when Silver told her of Billy's plans.

"Maybe I will actually see our mysterious landlord," Silver said. He'd seen Flint once, an angry redhead scowling at another tenant in the lobby. "I've met Miranda more often. Helped her bring up her groceries once and she gave me a cup of tea."

"Of course she did," Max said, handing him a mug of coffee.

"I think her relationship with Flint is as complicated as ours."

Max sat on the sofa next to him. "I don't think it's complicated," she said, slipping one arm around him. "I think it's difficult to label, more than casual friends, not lovers. But it's simple. We care about each other."

Silver nodded. "You saved me," he said softly.

"How? I'm no surgeon. I didn't extort the money. I didn't find you this new job."

"You didn't let me sit here, bitter and miserable," Silver said. "You found ways to help me find purpose. You've been here for me, and you've brought new friends into my life. I don't' know where I'd be without you."

" _Mon amour_." She kissed his hair. "So maudlin without even a drop of rum."

"It's not maudlin, I'm being genuine!" He gave her a playful shove, almost spilling his coffee.

"I'm teasing," she said. "I'm glad I could help. You've helped me too you know. And we will dance at these roof top parties, yes?"

"As soon as I get off work I'll be straight there every time," Silver promised. And Max would be his primary partner but not the only one, for now he was a competent dancer and could take his pick of partygoers.


End file.
